


The Rising

by Ischa



Series: Fall [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, M/M, Origin Story, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome, Violence, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which we learn how Jason became Red Hood. </p><p>  <i> Drake was a boy who tried to save the world. Jason had been that boy. And then he had died. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rising

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to The Fall. Will make more sense if you read The Fall too, but can probably be read on its own.
> 
> Russian translation: https://ficbook.net/readfic/4775054

**~One~**

Jason let his head fall against the grimy wall of the small apartment as his hips thrust forward, the boy took it without a noise, he even sucked a bit harder. 

Usually, Jason didn’t make it a habit to take people up on their offers, at least not those he saved, but something about this one…it was the hair and eyes and that he was so small, which should have been a turn-off like nothing else, but wasn’t, because the little hooker reminded him of his replacement. 

Which was all kinds of fucked up, but he couldn’t help it. He had flashes to that night he had crawled into bed with Dick and Tim. He had been mostly operating on a basic needs level, so it could probably be excused that he tried to molest a sixteen year old virgin. 

Jason bit back a moan at the thought. Tim’s skin hadn’t had that many scars, but then his suit was different. He was better protected than Dick and he had been back in the day. Jason didn’t know yet if that made him angry or not. At least Bruce had learned from his mistakes.

Jason tugged on the boy’s hair, the boy seemed reluctant to let go of his cock, but Jason was insistent, he hasn’t come inside anyone since Dick. And fuck, he really shouldn’t be thinking about Dick now. He yanked none too gently and his cock slipped out of that pretty, warm mouth. The boy’s fingers encircled his cock immediately and it took only a few pulls to make Jason come. He bit back the name on his tongue and looked down at the boy. They boy was hard. Jason had time so he told him to get himself off.

“You want to watch?” The boy asked in a heavy accented voice. It sounded a bit coy, a bit awed. 

“Yes,” Jason said. “No need to put on a show for me.”

“I like to do show,” the boy replied and grinned at him. The grin reminded him off Dick too. Jason leaned back and enjoyed the show anyway. He didn’t pay per se, but he threw the boy the wallet of one of his attackers. It was only fair he mused. “Thanks,” the boy said.

Jason nodded and left without another word. 

~+~  
After he had found Dick and Tim on the roof he hadn’t known what to do, the only thing that he wanted to do was to run or hurt them. He ran. Now it seemed like he chose right all these weeks ago. B. was back in town. He had heard whispers of him, but he kept his head down. If he knew Dick, and Dick hadn’t changed much since Jason died, Dick hadn’t told him yet about this…miracle or whatever. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t figure shit out of course, but that wasn’t Jason’s problem. 

Jason wasn’t even on the same fucking continent right now as Bruce. Jason was learning the fine art of knife-fighting in Belarus.  
Boris was a scumbag unlike Jason’s ever seen, but Mischa he liked. 

“Again!” Boris shouted in his heavy accented voice. Jason didn’t dare snigger. It was a sign that Boris liked him, Mischa had said, that he even used English when he was teaching a foreigner. Jason nearly felt touched. 

He was wiping sweat from his forehead when Boris came at him. He nearly gutted Jason. “Fuck!” He said as he jumped to the side. The ground was uneven and he nearly lost his footing. Before Boris came at him again, Jason briefly thought of Dick… this wouldn’t have happened to Dick. This time Jason wasn’t so careless. He would kill this man one day. He just fucking knew it. 

“Good,” Boris said an hour or so of training later. He threw his knife at Mischa who caught it easily. Jason kept his. It wasn’t as good as Boris’, but it was his. He had stolen it himself in a small shady shop in Moscow. It hadn’t been the first time he had stolen something, but that one felt significant.

Boris said something in Russian to Mischa and Mischa nodded. “Dinner in an hour,” he said smiling at Jason. Boris gave him a look and grabbed Mischa by the neck. Something about the way he did it made Jason’s hackles rise. He wanted to…he didn’t know. Mischa’s face was impassive. He waited. They both did, Jason realized. After what seemed like an eternity Boris let go of Mischa’s neck with one last squeeze and Mischa sprinted away. Boris grinned at Jason. Jason nodded like he understood what was going on. Thing was he did. Had a suspicion. Mischa was fast and agile. Bendy and quick. Sharp too and Jason liked his eyes. A clear green: like living things. He had a pretty face.  
He wasn’t older than seventeen. 

~+~  
Jason was sure Boris had known that Jason would see them. Had wanted Jason to. See how he pressed Mischa down and fucked him, hard and without much care for the boy. He grinned at Jason: his sweaty face and muscular arms looking obscene over the small body he was pushing down. Mischa’s face was pressed to the ground, his eyes closed: he was obviously in pain, didn’t enjoy it at all. All this Jason took in in a matter of seconds and suddenly he knew why he would kill Boris. This was reason enough. 

~+~  
They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t need to. Boris had established or re-established his claim on Mischa in a way that was both painful and very clear. He was an animal, Jason thought and he should be put down. Jason was pretty sure Mischa wasn’t the only one, wasn’t the first, wouldn’t be the last…well, Jason had a feeling, Mischa, would be the last. In fact he would make sure of it. 

The training was brutal after that the first few days, but Jason grit his teeth and carried on, because Boris was the best and Jason made it a priority to learn from the best. He had four years where he had been dead. He had to make up for it and then he would get back home, to Gotham and kill that clown. And after that…he didn’t know. Maybe fuck Dick’s brains out. 

Whenever he thought of Dick he also thought of the replacement and it made him feel confused and that made him angry. He didn’t have time for confusion. He wanted his life back and he wanted revenge. He didn’t know what was stronger. But he guessed he would find out. He would roll with it, because that was what Jason did. 

~+~  
“Good,” Boris said again, but Jason didn’t stop. He had won twice already, but third time was the charm and if he could get Boris’ knife he would call it a fucking day.  
Mischa was watching them. This morning Jason had seen new bruises on his neck and rope marks on his wrists. He had tried to hide them. Jason hadn’t called him out on it. “Very good,” Boris said as Jason got his knife, holding out his hand as if he was expecting Jason to give it back. 

“I know,” Jason said as he came at Boris until he had him against the wall and then he looked him in the eyes and drove the knife in deep. He had learned from B. where to strike not to kill, but it also meant he had learned where to strike to kill, and how to draw it out. Make it painful and slow. He stepped back as the blood began to run freely.  
Mischa was still watching. Jason cleaned his knife and threw Boris’ at Mischa, who caught it easily. 

“You killed him,” he said. It was Russian, but Jason understood enough of the language. He just hadn’t let on how much. 

“Yes,” he answered in English, because Mischa needed the practice. “He raped you.” 

Mischa looked at the knife in his hand. “He did,” he said and then stronger, louder, angrier, “He did.” He got up then from the ground where he had always been sitting and went over to Boris who still wasn’t dead, but would be soon, and bathed the knife in his warm blood. Jason wasn’t even going to try and understand what was going on in Mischa’s head right now. He didn’t know how long Boris had raped the boy, kept him here away from the world, made him sit on the ground, made him watch as he gutted people – and he didn’t want to know. He had his own problems. 

“Don’t turn out like him,” Jason said quietly. 

“Or you will come for me,” Mischa said and he smiled. 

Jason nodded and smiled back. 

 

**~Two~**

Jason might have tasted the good life while he had been with Bruce, but where he felt at home, right in his skin, was in the shadier parts of the big cities. And all of them were similar. There were gangsters, desperation, hookers, and victims. Lost souls. He fit right in, even if none of these people were quite like him. He didn’t think one of them came back from the fucking dead. 

He had stared at his body the first few days when he went into hiding in Blüdheaven. He had stared and tried to remember what had happened to him, but it was like staring at a wall. He had been dead and then he hadn’t been. The space he had found himself in had been too small for him and he had felt like he would suffocate. It was pure desperation that made him dig himself out of the grave. He could still feel the earth grumbling under his fingernails, the splitters of the wood, the soil gagging him as he screamed. 

And he could remember the first time he felt something else. Something like hope and belonging. It had been when the replacement stepped into the street. That was the turning point for him. That was when he started to want to remember. The ‘R’ on his chest had meant something to Jason. 

He ran his fingers over his own now. He had it tattooed on his chest just a few days ago and it was still tender. It was a reminder that he really didn’t need. He wasn’t Robin anymore. He couldn’t be Robin as long as Tim was wearing the suit. 

~+~  
Jason’s skin itched with the need for action. He had beaten up a few thugs and now his blood was singing and he wanted, he needed to fuck. London was full of pubs and bars and underground clubs. He was a good-looking guy for someone who had come back from the dead only a few months before and he knew it. 

~+~  
She slid into the chair beside him fluidly like water. He looked at her and she smiled. 

“Buy you a drink?” She asked. 

“Wouldn’t that be mine line?” Jason replied. 

“I like to be independent,” she answered. 

He laughed and nodded. She said her name was Jenny and it probably was and she and her boyfriend, she nodded in Marc’s direction thought maybe Jason would like to join them for a drink. 

“A drink?” He said with a smile. “Or a nice hard fuck?” 

She put her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Why not both?” 

He laughed again and nodded and let her pay for his drink. 

She was curvy and he was bendy and Jason enjoyed every fucking minute out of it. He liked the smell of her body, the crisp sheets, the posh wallpaper and the way Marc moaned as Jason fucked into him hard and slow. The way Jenny pressed her breasts against him as she fingered him. The way she asked him if it would be okay to use a toy, half excited, half ashamed. He grabbed her by the neck, kissed her hard, bit her lip, grinned against her mouth, and told her to fucking go for it. 

“You are crazy…” Marc said. He was stroking Jason’s chest with a long finger, gently. Running it over the sensitive skin, tracing the ‘R’. “Going home with strangers…You’re just a kid.” It was true, Marc and Jenny where at least ten years older than him, but he was deadly, they were soft. 

He rolled over so Marc was caged by his body. He kissed Marc’s pretty mouth. “You are crazy,” he whispered. “I could slit your throats and steal all your valuables.” 

Jenny kissed a scar on his back and then licked it. He grinded down, against Marc’s hip. 

“Ready for another round?” She asked. 

“Want me to fuck you now?” Jason asked. 

“Yes,” she whispered. It was low and breathy and went straight to Jason’s dick. 

~+~  
There was a sniper in Belfast. Former killer for hire, who didn’t like people to knock on his door. Jason made clear he was there to stay during the first fifteen minutes and then McGrey had laughed and offered him a drink. Jason wasn’t crazy enough to take a sip before McGrey did. 

He stayed in the cottage with the old man for three months until McGrey declared there was nothing left he could teach him. Jason knew it wasn’t true. Every teacher held back something. He shrugged. He had learned enough about guns to know how to use them the best and most effective. He learned enough about them to know for sure he preferred the knife. 

“You have some sweet moves, kid,” McGrey said over breakfast.  
Jason shrugged. He heard that one before. In bed and outside of it. “What are you going to do with the knowledge you’ve gained?” The old man asked. 

“What do you think I will do?” 

“Kill someone. Probably more than one person,” McGrey answered. 

“Damn right,” Jason replied. 

“You want to make it quick?” McGrey asked. 

Jason starred into his cup of tea. “No, I don’t…but on my way there this will come in handy.” He nodded to the new shiny set of guns.

“There is a woman in Lyon,” McGrey said.

“She probably broke your heart, hmm?” 

The old man smiled. “Amongst other things, yes. She could teach you a thing or two more.” 

Jason didn’t feel ready to go back home to Gotham yet, so he shrugged and let the old man give him the last known address of Madame B. 

 

**~Three~**

Madame B. looked like Helen Mirren, Jason thought, a bit tougher maybe. She was unlike, Miss Mirren, French through and through. She was roughly fifty years old and had a smile that made Jason uneasy. 

“Ah, now McGrey is sending me his strays, no?” She said and kissed his cheek on both sides. She smelled like vanilla and something spicy he couldn’t place. “You look like a boy on a mission,” she added as he followed her into the conservatory. 

“Guess I am,” he said. 

“And what can Madame B. do for you?” she asked pouring him tea and offering some French tea-cakes. They reminded him of the stuff Alfred used to make and he fell onto Bruce’s old teachings immediately. He knew how to behave in polite company and Madame B. seemed like she wouldn’t accept anything else. 

“Mister McGrey wasn’t clear on that, Madame B.” Jason admitted. 

“And you came anyway? I could be a serial killer,” she smiled. “There could be poison in your tea.” 

“To be honest, I figure you would murder me after we had a nice chat. It would be the polite thing to do. And you seem like a woman who likes to play by the rules.” She raised a delicate pale eyebrow. “Your own,” he smiled and she laughed.  
Her laughter was girlish and he thought she looked at least ten years younger when she was amused. 

“I see now why he sent you here. You’re a charmer and by the way you move I can tell you have been trained. You’re a deadly little boy, aren’t you?” 

He nodded. He was deadly. Not little anymore, nor a boy, although. His mind flashed to Tim again. It did that often. He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to fuck him or kill him. Maybe both. It would’ve been easier if Drake hadn’t tried to help him. If he hadn’t been nice. If he wouldn’t care, but he did. He cared a lot in fact. Drake was a boy who tried to save the world. Jason had been that boy. And then he had died. 

“Mister McGrey still thinks you can teach me a few more tricks.” 

“I do like to teach boys, especially with good manners,” Madame B. replied. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Ah…but you don’t even know what I will teach you yet,” she said and smiled that smile that could make a lesser man uneasy, but Jason remembered now bits and pieces and he remembered the mad laughter, the weight of the crowbar, the sound it made when it shattered Jason’s bones. Jason wasn’t afraid of much anymore, so he smiled back. 

~+~  
She was an expert in art and poisons and the art of poisons. She had also a few sweet moves of her own and she loved to dance. Killers, criminals, were people too. Not all of them were simply in it for the money or other inferior reasons like Bruce liked to believe. Madame B. was an artist in everything she did. From her morning coffee, over her hair and dress to her kills. 

“I’m not that active anymore, I have to admit,” she said, handing him a china cup that was so delicate, it was nearly see-through. 

“I can’t imagine people don’t want to hire you,” Jason replied and took a sip. Her coffee was excellent, like the croissant and the jam she had made herself. 

“Oh, they do,” she replied. “I am just not interested. I don’t need the money. What I like is a challenge. You see, I’m like a spider,” she laughed. 

Jason liked her and he liked her smile and how she smelled. The way her small breasts looked in the dresses she wore. The way her neck was delicate and pale, with visible age-lines. He had no illusions she didn’t know that he wanted to sleep with her. She was just that kind of woman. They were playing a game, but he wasn’t sure who was courting who. Maybe in this case it really didn’t matter. 

~+~  
Jason liked to stroke the back of her nape after they had sex. It was hard to think of what he was doing with this woman as fucking, even if it wasn’t less intense than the fucks he had with people his age. If he was honest, it was even more intense, better somehow. She showed him things. 

“It’s always an all-round education, chéri,” she said. Her hair was spilling on the grass and he kissed her temple because he felt tender toward her like he rarely got these days anymore. It was peaceful here. He got why she liked it. 

“And here I thought I was special,” he replied. 

She smiled at him. “You are, Jason,” she said. “I haven’t poisoned you since the day you came through my door. It means something.” 

He wondered what she had seen in him. Couldn’t be that he had been sent by McGrey. It certainly helped, but he had the feeling, that she would have killed him anyway, if he should have annoyed her in some way. He didn’t ask what she had seen, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

He kissed her cheek instead and then her mouth and she pulled him in. “Ah…to be young again,” she whispered teasingly, but her body was already rubbing against his. 

~+~  
She leaned against the old French door in her negligee and looked at him as he polished his guns. “Where will you go, chéri?” She asked. 

“Home,” Jason said, he liked that he didn’t have to pretend with her. She understood things and he wasn’t sure it was just how she was or if it came with age. 

“And what will you do there?” 

“Take back what’s mine,” Jason answered. 

She cocked her head, the negligee slipped from her right shoulder and showed a curve of her breast. “I’m not sure you’re talking about winning back a lover or killing someone who had wronged you,” Madame B. mused. 

“To be honest, love,” he said and grinned at her as she made a face. “Neither do I.” 

She held out her hand. “I’ll make you breakfast before you leave.” 

He took her up on the offer. 

 

**~Four~**

Gotham welcomed him like he knew it would: with someone trying to steal his wallet at gun-point. Jason was not impressed or amused.  
He broke the assholes nose and kneecap and took his money too. And the gun. It wasn't something to write home about (or to McGrey), Jason's were better. He would most likely toss it into the river. 

“And you better not try this again,” he smirked. The man mumbled something that was pretty fucking sure an obscenity. Jason smacked him over his head. “Language.” Well, fuck, he thought, I sound like Bruce. 

He pocketed the gun and left before he got tempted to do some more damage to that scumbag.

~+~  
Jason knew of course that there was no one you could go to get a suit tailored, well not that particular kind of suit. He didn't have Bruce's resources and he wasn't going to make his presence known yet to Bruce. He would know soon enough, once the Joker was dead. 

But when Jason wanted to hunt scum and protect the city, he would need better protection than a t-shirt and a leather jacket. He kinda dug the jacket, so it would probably stay. Something like Dick was wearing as Nightwing, without the fancy stripes. He didn't know who he wanted to be yet, so he would go with black. Black always fitted. 

~+~  
The first few days he got himself familiar with the streets of Gotham again. He had roamed them as a kid and later as Robin at night and then he was dead and a lot of shit had changed while he had been dead. He read up on it while he was staying at Madame B's. When he came back from the dead, when he dug himself out, he hadn't really been registering a lot of things. And then he had been with Drake. Which...he wasn't going to think about, because it made him angry. More angry, because he was always angry underneath it all. At Bruce mostly. But at Dick too. How could Dick make the same mistakes he made with Jason? Why with that nondescript kid? 

He shook his head and took out a cigarette from his pack. He remembered now a lot of shit from before. Some things only in bits and pieces, others in stark clarity. He had been smoking since he had been eleven. Bruce had tried to make him ditch the addiction and he wasn't allowed to smoke in the manor, which was such a fucking pain in the ass, especially during winter. He smiled around his cigarette and leaned onto the railing of his shitty one room apartment. As soon as he made some cash he would rent a warehouse. Jason had always liked the old abandoned factory buildings by the docks. The memories of Bruce and winter, of Alfred, the manor: those were good memories, he had felt like he belonged somewhere. He had been prepared to be thrown out at any minute, of fucking course he had been, because he hadn't been Dick. Never would be Dick. Never had the grace. Never was the sunshine kid. Was never able to ditch his addiction. Developed a few other along the way too. 

He made their lives difficult, but Alfred had always tried. Alfred was a good person. One of the very few. He missed Alfred. 

He flipped the butt of his cigarette over the railing and made his way back inside. There was shit to be done. 

~+~  
Jason still got it. Maybe he had even more game now than back when he had been a teenager. He was still good at finding the really shady clubs, but in a city like Gotham that wasn't brain surgery either. Or maybe he just looked the type. He was the type. He had always been the type even when he had been with Dick, had been building something with Dick, he had always been craving something more. Something darker. It was just how he was. 

The music hit him like a punch to the gut as soon as he entered and the big steel doors shut firmly behind him. He made himself familiar with the layout in a matter of seconds. You can take the boy away from the Batman, but you can't take the Batman out of the boy, he mused wryly.  
He inhaled deep: sweat, sweet and spicy perfume and something else that spoke of desire and desperation. Jason was all too familiar with both. 

He made his way to the bar and then onto the dance-floor. He had his eyes on a cute couple when he spied Dick. He nearly ducked his head or yelled his name, not that he would have been heard over the music. Dick was dancing way too close with some strangers. Fucking plural as Jason watched on from the balcony. 

He let people touch him like – Jason clenched his glass until it made a noise and he made his fingers relax around it. He watched in horrified fascination as some guy ran his hands over Dick's sides and then his ass and Dick leaned into it just the slightest bit. Jason put the glass on a nearby table.  
Some girl whispered something into Dick's ear and he laughed. She brushed his hair back and mouthed his neck and he leaned into it too. This was one of those clubs, but fuck it all. Didn't Grayson have any sense? He was still Bruce Wayne's ward, son, whatever. He shouldn't be making such a spectacle out of himself on a freaking dancing floor, Jason thought. 

Down on the floor Dick closed his eyes briefly and nodded just the tiniest bit. The guy grinned. Jason hatted him on the spot. Not only because he had just scored what was rightfully Jason's – what had been promised to him, what had been stolen from him. He could just tell that this guy wasn't in it for Dick's pleasure, but mostly his own. Dick should have gone with the pink-haired punk girl. 

“What the fuck,” Jason muttered as he followed Dick and the Asshole with his eyes to the backroom.  
There were only two options here: following Dick down, or not following Dick down.  
Really, Jason thought, why fucking kid himself? 

~+~  
At least, Jason thought hiding out in the shadows, he was going on his fucking knees for Dick. Jason remembered the taste of Dick still after all these years, the noises Dick made. He wished he hadn't wasted his time the last time (in Drake's bed) with rubbing against Dick, with only feeling his cock against his own skin but then he hadn't been thinking right. He was in his right fucking mind right now. 

And this Asshole wasn't doing it right. Dick was hard, alright, but he didn't look like Jason remembered him when he got into getting his cock sucked. This guy was a) really bad at it or b) he didn't care to make it good. Jason wanted to kick his teeth in. He watched for another few minutes instead. And as the guy pulled off with Dick still achingly hard and got up, Jason knew he had to step in. As soon as the Asshole had Dick facing the wall, Jason made him fuck off. There must have been something in his eyes that told the Asshole not to argue that fucking point, because he only nodded. 

Jason ran his hands over Dick's sides and Dick gasped, tried to turn around, but Jason grabbed his neck and pressed his face into the wall again. 

“No,” he said. “Or I'll leave, Bigbird.” 

Dick shivered, didn't even try to suppress it. He was hard and aching and probably falling apart right the fuck now, but Jason wasn't in the mood to care. He loved Dick and he hated Dick and he was fucking angry at Dick. That anger ran as deep as the love he felt. He bit Dick's neck, just under his ear where he knew it would do all kinds of things for Dick. Dick moaned loud and fucking obscene and it went straight to Jason's cock. He ran a hand down Dick's back and dipped a finger into his cleft. 

“Jason...” Dick said. 

“You wanted that stranger to fuck you, didn't you Bigbird? I wonder how many you’ve had, while I was dead,” he hissed and pressed down and in. Dick winced. “You never gave me this and you knew that I wanted it badly,” he went on. “I'm going to take it now.” 

“Jason,” Dick said again and then, “yes” and “please,” but the last was only a whisper. Jason wanted to kiss him, but he smelled like Vodka and Jason knew he had been making out with strangers on the fucking dance-floor. 

Jason grabbed the small tube of lube from his back pocket and slicked two fingers. “Going to fuck you like you love it and deserve it,” he whispered into Dick's ear. He could feel Dick shiver again as he pressed two fingers inside without a warning. Jason wasn't extra careful. It was obvious that Dick hadn't stopped fucking around for a while. He wasn't a tight virgin. Something ugly and possessive coiled in Jason's stomach. He withdrew his fingers and grabbed a condom. Dick shook his head slightly. 

“Bigbird I have no fucking idea where you have been. You looked like a slut on that dance-floor and would have picked up anyone,” he said, letting his lips brush Dick's neck. 

“I wasn't-” 

“Yes, you were and you should be glad it's me who is taking you up on your offer,” Jason cut in and let his erection slide against that glorious ass. Dick made another back bitten noise. 

Jason wanted to fuck him hard, but...this was still Dick. And even if a part of him wanted to hurt Dick for giving up on him and caring for the replacement, for not avenging him, the part of him that wanted to make Dick feel good was bigger, was screaming louder in his head. He shut it up by sliding home in one smooth thrust. Dick had always liked it when Jason fingered him hard, but slow. He liked it when they could take their time and Jason had always wondered how it would feel to slam into that tight heat with his aching cock. Now he knew and – fuck. Being inside Dick was fucking heaven. He pressed Dick into the wall with every thrust. And Dick grabbed for him. “No,” Jason hissed. “Hands on the wall. I will pull out,” he added. It would be fucking hard, but he would do it. 

Dick groaned in frustration, but he put his hands on the wall and rested his head on his forearms. Jason let him. He was panting and whispering obscenities into Dick's ear and Dick was meeting every one of his hard slow thrusts. They were so fucking in tune, Jason thought. This was how it was supposed to be and the Joker had stolen this from him, and from Dick. 

“Jason,” Dick said in a harsh whisper. 

“Are you close, Bigbird?” Jason asked, he could feel it in the tension, could read it in Dick's body language. 

“Yes,” Dick answered. 

“Touch yourself then,” Jason replied. 

“Jason please,” Dick said. 

Jason was tempted for a second, but he reeled it in. “No. If you want to have your cock touched, you better take that matter in hand yourself and soon.” 

Dick groaned, but sneaked a hand down as Jason started to fuck him harder now. He was close too, but he wanted to make Dick come before he let go himself.  
It didn't take long after Dick started to jerk himself off. Jason fucked him through his orgasm and then he pulled out. It was fucking agony and he had no fucking idea why he did it. It was some kind of twisted punishment. His brain was all messed up and sometimes he recognized it too. 

“What are you doing?” Dick asked, trying to turn around so he could see Jason's face. 

“Going,” Jason replied as he tossed the condom and tucked himself away. He bit his lip to keep the moan in. 

“But, you're hard,” Dick said. 

“Yes.”

“And you don't want to come...inside me?” The last was a whisper only. 

Jason didn't answer. He pressed Dick's face into the wall and bit his shoulder and then he let go and made a break for it. 

He was fucked up in the head and this wasn't part of his fucking plan. Now Dick knew he was back in town and that meant that Drake would know soon too.  
He had to speed this shit up. There were plans in motion already. And he had just jeopardized them for a piece of ass.  
He swung onto a rooftop via a fire escape and looked over his city as he smoked a cigarette. He laughed as he exhaled slowly: Fuck it all, but Dick had had always ways to ruin Jason's plans.

 

**~Five~**

Jason had nightmares he couldn’t remember. But maybe they were memories he was suppressing. He woke with a start, gasping as he scanned the room on instinct.  
Nothing.  
No one knew he was here. Bruce wasn’t in the city. Dick…Jason couldn’t kid himself here. Dick knew it had been Jason who fucked him two nights ago in a shady club and Dick was probably searching everywhere for him. But so far he hadn’t found Jason and Jason kept his nose clean (ish). He had gotten his fake IDs from Madame B, so he wouldn’t have to deal with this stuff here where the replacement could track him down. Drake would probably catch on anyway in a few weeks, days. He was just that good. Jason had done his research on the kid.  
The new Robin was different. He wasn’t one of them. Hell, Jason thought, Drake wasn’t even an orphan.  
That kid had everything and he chose to be Robin. What the all loving fuck?  
And what had Bruce been thinking anyway? Taking that kid in.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and listened to the night outside. It was mostly silent, but it wouldn’t stay that way. Soon people would go about their business and Jason would get up and make coffee. Or he could get up now and get coffee, maybe get some work done.

Fucking Dick had messed him up. Messed up his plans, but…he needed bait. He needed to lure the Joker out. The Joker had patterns and he wasn’t that active when Batman wasn’t in town. That bastard was probably scheming. Planning murder and torture right the fuck now so he could welcome Batman back with a bang.  
Well, Jason knew a thing or two about these things as well.

He had entertained the thought of making Bruce decide. Of bringing them all together and make Bruce face this. All of it. This failure. What Jason had wanted, what he still wanted, was some kind proof that Bruce loved him. But he knew Bruce. Bruce hadn’t killed the bastard when Jason had been murdered. Why would he do it now? Now that Jason was back from the dead? There was no reason really. The opportunity came and it slipped away from them.  
Jason had to take matters in his own hands. Like fucking always.

~+~  
It was easy really, slipping into a normal, for him, day to day routine. It was even easier to cozy up to Drake’s little friend. They bonded over comic books and old school rock. Jason had done his homework, but he actually liked old school rock as well. Loved the scream of the guitar and the rhythm of drums.

Jason met Miles 'accidentally' and he liked the boy, which was good and not so much, because he needed Miles to lure Drake out. To make Robin come to the rescue. He would let Miles go – mostly unscathed too. He only needed to keep Robin. Set up a nice little trap for the Joker. Kill him and go back to Dick.

~+~  
Sometimes, Jason has doubted himself and this insane plan of his. He didn’t doubt that the Joker had to be put down like a rabid dog. Not for a second. What he doubted was if it was a good idea to get Robin involved. Dick obviously cared for that boy. Drake had been nice. Had tried to help Jason when Jason hadn’t been more than just a doll. A robot.

But then: Jason didn’t only do it for himself. He was doing the city a service here. A dead Joker meant less murder and mayhem and insanity. It would mean that Dick would be safe too.  
And Jason really needed his revenge. He needed closure and he needed it as soon as possible, because he could feel the rage building and slipping into insanity every day a bit more. He didn’t want to end up in Arkham with all the other hopeless head cases.

What Jason wanted was his life back. But he wasn’t so sure anymore he hadn’t outgrown being Robin. Robin was Batman’s. To follow, to protect, to distract. Jason wasn’t Batman’s. Probably never really had been. Not like Dick had been. Not like Jason had belonged to Dick.  
He ached to be Dick’s again. He ached to be that boy again. But he wasn’t that boy anymore. Could never go back to being that boy. And Dick was in the process of replacing him.  
Sometimes it seemed like a good idea to kill the new Robin. In his darker dreams he was doing it. Different ways: sometimes painful and slow, sometimes swift and merciless.  
And when he woke up he felt, guilty and relieved at the same time.

Robin didn’t kill, because Batman didn’t kill, but Jason wasn’t Robin anymore. Different rules applied for him.

~+~  
Sometimes he wondered if Bruce would’ve killed the Joker for Dick. Dick who had always been the good son.  
He didn’t like to entertain these thoughts, but they came unbidden, ambushed him just before he drifted off to sleep. Crept into his brain and stayed there, developed and changed into dreams and nightmares.

He would never know. He would never ask, because it would be useless anyway. Bruce wouldn’t answer that question. He would give Jason a look and maybe some bullshit on top of that, that he believed was true.  
Jason didn’t want any of that.

What he wanted was to see Bruce’s face once they found the Joker. What he wanted was to drag Joker’s corpse up to the manor or cave and leave it on Bruce’s/Batman’s doorsteps. Like some kind of offering to the god that shaped him and deserted him in his pain. To prove that he didn’t need that god anymore. He was really tempted to do that, but knew it would only lead to a shitload of trouble. Not that Batman would thank him for getting rid of that clown. Not that Jason wanted his gratitude anyway.

 

 **~Six~**

He would’ve liked to say that the idea came to him in a feverish dream – like Bruce’s when he had found his Batman persona, but it was in a comic shop while he was waiting for Miles. He was just leafing through some underground comic books when it hit him. He would be a masked vigilante. With a real mask, not this domino nonsense that Dick was so fond of and that Robin used. He needed to cover his whole face and it should be red, because he had paid for this with his own blood.

“You’re looking pensive, Jay,” Miles said.

Jason acted startled. “Pensive?” 

Miles shrugged. “It’s a word, Jay.”

“I know,” Jason’s lips curled into a smile and Miles smiled back at him.

“What are you reading?”

“Not reading, just looking at the pictures,” Jason replied.

“I know you’re smarter than you want people to think,” Miles said.

“Where I grew up it was better not to let people know how smart you were,” Jason said. It was true. On the streets it had been dangerous and when he lived with Bruce – everything had been a façade. They were only themselves when they were alone.

Miles nodded. He wasn’t going to pry. Jason really liked the kid, but he couldn’t care for that now. There was always collateral damage in a war and maybe once the Joker was dead Miles would see how big a part he had played to make it happen. Maybe he would be proud. Maybe he would hate Jason for the rest of his life. Not that Jason cared.  
There were very few people Jason cared for. Cared about their opinions. On some days he wasn’t even sure if Bruce was one of them. He had been, but then Jason died. Something like that set things in perspective.

Miles took a random comic book in hand and started leafing through it. “So…wanna hang out for real some time? I mean, my friends think I made you up.”

“Are you in the habit of making up cool kids from the wrong side of the tracks?” Jason teased.

Miles didn’t blush, but his fingers fiddled a bit with the pages. Jason knew that Miles was as straight as they come, but he couldn’t help himself. Sometimes he liked to flirt with random hetero guys. And Miles considered himself Drake’s best friend, so it wasn’t like he would try to punch Jason in the face for it. Not that Jason couldn’t take him. The boy seemed strong enough, but Jason had been Robin, had trained with the best of them.  
Dick could probably take him. It was an exciting and delicious thought.

“You think you're cool?” Miles asked. There was a smile in his voice.

“Try and tell me I’m not. I dare you,” Jason answered.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Miles pointed out.

“Your place or mine?” Jason said.

Miles laughed. “I’m not that kind of boy,” he replied, batting his lashes. He looked good when he laughed. Attractive.

“Ah, you want to have dinner first. Fine. I know this small place with great fries and killer lime chicken.”

“Text me the details,” Miles said.

Jason rolled his eyes in a calculated move and took out his phone.  
Really, the boy made it way too easy.

~+~  
One time hanging out became another and before he could blink, Jason had found himself at one of those parties he had only ever seen in teenage coming of age movies. Bruce wouldn’t have allowed such a thing and Jason hadn’t even be tempted. He got his kicks somewhere else. Mostly on the streets late at night or in shady clubs, Bruce probably had known about, during early morning hours.  
It was loud and people were underage and drinking. Jason kinda liked it, even if he felt old. He’s been here, done it all and more. Worse.  
Jason had dressed down so he could fit in and be overseen. He didn’t want to leave a lasting or even a fleeting impression. His hair was a mess and it was blond. Had been for a while. Since he started to stalk Miles in fact. He was wearing contacts too. And one fake tattoo that was visible at all times on his neck. People would remember that detail for sure and nothing else. Nothing about his face or other helpful features.  
Jason had learned from the best.  
He grabbed a beer for appearances and started to mingle.

~+~  
It was easy to slip Miles the sedative. It was even easier to get him out of the house and into a car. It wasn’t Jason’s car. It wasn’t Miles’ either. Jason had no idea who it belonged to, but that didn’t matter. He would park it somewhere so the cops could find it.  
Gloves, Jason learned early on, were an essential item for vigilantes – and criminals.  
This plan was working like fucking magic. Who would thought that kidnapping a rich boy would be so freaking easy? If he were a lesser person (or not dead set on revenge), he would demand ransom money. He was pretty sure he could pull something like that off. But Jason wasn’t interested in money.

~+~  
“What?” Miles asked groggily.

Jason handed him a mug of coffee. His hands were cuffed of course, but Jason wouldn’t make it more uncomfortable for the kid than necessary. He couldn’t escape anyway. But Jason was reasonably sure that Drake would find him soon. He had been trained by the best as well after all.  
Miles took the mug on instinct and then paused before he actually took a sip, giving Jason a look.  
“Can’t blame you. I did drug you,” Jason shrugged. “But it’s only coffee.”

“Is this a kidnapping?” Miles asked.

“Yes,” Jason replied.

“You want money?” Miles said.

“No, Miles. I want Drake,” Jason replied.

“Why not kidnap him then?” Miles asked. It was a very logical question. Jason could see why Drake liked the kid so much.

“See, Miles. It’s not that easy to capture a Robin.”

“I-” he took a deep breath. “Are you on medication?”

“I probably should be, but no. And it doesn’t matter that you don’t get it yet, Miles. You will. Soon I think. He will find you.”

“Who?” Miles asked.

Jason grinned. “Robin.”

~+~  
“So-,” Miles said, looking at him carefully, “You think Tim Drake is Robin?”

“I know he is Robin,” Jason answered, lightning a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke out slowly.

“What makes you so sure? I mean we’re talking about Tim here. He isn’t someone who thugs would fear. He is small and he gets shoved around a lot and he is shy-

“Has a lot of unexplained bruises? And really good reflexes when he doesn’t watch himself?”

Miles frowned. “Well…yeah, I just though he had a boyfriend who liked it rough-”

“Trust me, Dick likes it rough,” Jason hissed.

Miles swallowed. “You…you were with Grayson before Tim came along. You left Grayson and now you’re jealous-”

Jason laughed. “I didn’t leave him by choice, Miles. The Joker beat me to death with a fucking crowbar.”

Miles swallowed. “You should see a shrink.”

“Probably, but he would just lock me away, because it’s hard to believe I came back from the dead, you know?” He exhaled smoke again.

“If you came back from the dead, that would make you Robin-”

“The second,” Jason cut in. “No one really pays attention to the sidekick, but boys do grow up. Dick was the first, then came little me, and when I died Drake took my place.”

“Will you hurt Tim?” Miles asked.

“Sometimes I want to badly,” Jason answered honestly. He finished his smoke and put the butt out in a nearby ashtray. “I don’t know yet.”

Miles kept silent.

~+~  
Jason knew what Miles was doing with the constant questions and talking. He was trying to make himself be seen as a real person. But the thing was Jason already did, and it didn’t change a goddamned thing. Miles was still bait.

“This isn’t going to work on me, you know?” Jason asked handing him a donut.

Miles took it with a nod of thanks. Good manners. “What?”

“This ‘see me as a real person’ crap. I do. I even like you Miles. I had a few stray thoughts about how your dark skin would look against mine while you fuck me-”

Miles chocked on his donut. “Jesus.”

Jason smirked. “But you’re still the best bait. The other option I entertained had been Dick, but I think Dick can actually take me. You were really clueless and easy to get my hands on.”

“Because Dick had been Robin too,” Miles said.

“Yes, because Dick had been Robin too.”

“Why isn’t he Robin anymore?” Miles asked.

“Because he and Batman had a falling out and he cried on Sups shoulder and then got himself a new shiny persona-”

“He’s Nightwing!” Miles said. 

“Why Miles, do you believe my crazy stories now?” Jason grinned.

“They make a certain sense, when you leave out that Tim Drake is Robin. I could believe that Robin became Nightwing. I mean…it makes sense that there is more than one Robin.”

“There is always only one at a time-”

“Do you want to take Tim’s place?” Miles asked.

“In Dick’s bed? Or at Batman’s side?” Jason replied. He was munching on his own donut.

“Either? Both?”

“No, I don’t want to be Robin. I think I outgrew it or failed as I got my ass kicked by the fucking Joker.”

“So, what do you need Robin for?” Miles asked.

“I need bait,” Jason said.

“Bait-” Miles frowned at his donut. “Bait…oh!” He said as he caught on. He looked at Jason. “You want to use him to lure the Joker out!”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Jason stated.

“The Joker?”

“Yes.”

“So this is about revenge.” It wasn’t a question at all.

“Mostly, but I think I will do the city a service by getting rid of that clown,” Jason replied.  
“Aren’t you feeling better knowing that?”

“Honestly? No,” Miles answered.

“You’re still on the fence about me being crazy, and I can’t blame you. I would be on the fence if I were in your place, too.” He shrugged and got up from his chair. “You need to go to the bathroom?”

“No?”

“I have stuff to do and won’t be back for a few hours, so you better be sure,” Jason said stretching.

“I’ll go now then,” Miles said.

Jason nodded.

~+~  
The air was damp and Jason closed his jacket as he swung down to ruin another maybe rapist’s night. He hated that kind especially. He never could make himself stop once he started to kick their teeth in. They were the worst kind of scum, right up there with child molesters.  
He wiped away the blood and cursed under his breath. This one would probably lead Dick right to him. Fuck.

“You okay?” He asked the woman. She was middle aged and scared out of her fucking mind.

“Yes…” she said. It was only a whisper really.

Jason got out some cash and held it out in front of him. She stared. “For a taxi. To get you home,” he explained.

“I don’t-”

“Just take it and go home,” Jason cut in.

She nodded and came cautiously closer. He dropped the bills into her open palm. “Thank you,” she said.

He nodded and didn’t ask her what the hell she was doing here at this time of night, because that was all bullshit and also victim blaming at its finest. It wasn’t her fault some scumbag wanted to rape her. She had the right, like any human being really, to go where she wanted without fear. He waited with her until a taxi came and then shot his grapple.  
Jason was sure there were more scumbags just around the corner, whose night he could spoil too. He was feeling the itch to hunt again deep in his bones. He had been sitting still and planning way too long. He wasn’t like the little replacement. He was at home on the streets of Gotham.

 

**~Seven~**

Jason avoided the shuriken narrowly. The boy was good, but then of fucking course. Bruce didn’t want to make the same mistakes again.  
He lit his cigarette with all the calm he could muster as the boy was watching him. Perched on the edge of the building.

“You wanna step down from there?” He asked, exhaling smoke into the night.

Robin gave him a look. The whiteout lenses made him look even more like something else. He was more Bat than he was Robin. He was dark, small, and deadly.  
“I know it was you,” Robin said, watching him. Cataloguing. God, he was so like Bruce it chilled something inside Jason.

“Probably. Yes. Specifically?”

“Goddamned it, Jason! Miles!” Robin hissed.

“I read about it in the papers,” Jason said, inhaling slowly. He kept the smoke in a bit too long because he liked the burn at the back of his throat.

“You took him!”

“Why would I take that kid?” Jason asked.

“Because he is my friend, because you knew I would find out.”

“And if that were true, Babybird, what would you conclude?” Jason asked, looking him in the eyes. He wasn’t wearing a mask. He hadn’t thought Robin would ambush him randomly on a rooftop. He probably should have taken it into account. Well, you live, you learn.

“That it’s a fucking trap of course, but I have no idea why. Why Jason?” Robin asked.

“Because I’m fucked up. Being beaten to death by an insane clown can do that to a person,” Jason answered, finishing his cigarette.

“I knew you wanted me gone.” 

“To be honest,” Jason said, throwing the butt over the edge of the rooftop as he was walking closer to where Robin was still perched, “I am not sure I want you dead.”

Robin tensed, but held his ground. He titled his chin up a bit. God he was so small. Jason didn’t think he had ever been that small. “Why?”

“It would make Nightwing sad,” Jason replied with a smile.

“So, what is your plan then?”

“Simple, really,” Jason said, reaching out and putting his hand on the boy’s cheek. He couldn’t feel the skin through the gauntlet he was wearing, but he could feel the faint heat. Robin glared. Jason smiled. “I want you.”

Tim exhaled slowly. “To do what?”

“Whatever I want, Babybird,” Jason purred and it was a test. He wouldn’t touch Drake like that, even if he was tempted. He stepped back. “Find me when you know what you want to do. And not a single word to Dick, or anyone really or I will hurt him.”

“So, you didn’t?” Robin asked.

“No, not yet, but I’m crazy, I could change my mind any freaking second. Tick tock, Babybird.” He threw over his shoulder and shot the grapple.

~+~  
Jason felt good about this. He always felt good when a plan was coming together. He could probably have talked Robin into helping him get the Joker, but Robin was too much Batman’s at the time to let Jason kill that bastard.

“Spoke with your friend,” Jason said and tossed Miles a candy bar.

Miles caught it, barely. “Tim?”

“Yeah, he will be here soon. He cares about you.”

“Tim cares about a lot of people,” Miles said.

And wasn’t that true? He had cared for Jason too nearly a year ago. Now, now Jason wasn’t so sure. “Yeah.” 

“So, you will let me go?” Miles asked.

“When everything is said and done, yes.”

“What does that mean?” Miles asked.

“That I can’t have you run to the police with this, Miles. You will be sitting tight while Robin and I take out the Joker.” 

“Robin would never-”

“No, but I will,” Jason interrupted. 

~+~  
Robin found Jason’s secret hideout the next night. He was silent, but Jason had been waiting.

“I knew you would find me,” he said and opened the window so Robin could come inside.

“It wasn’t hard-”

“I left you a few breadcrumbs, I admit,” Jason shrugged.

“Where is Miles?”

“The other room,” Jason answered. “Wanna see him?”

“Is he strapped to a bomb?” Robin asked.

Jason laughed. “No, bad mojo, you know?”

Robin nodded once. Sharply. “Okay.” He still kept his distance and Jason couldn’t blame him.

“Go on then, say hi,” Jason said.

~+~  
“The fuck?” Miles asked.

“It will be okay. I will get you out of here,” Robin said. Robin had a different voice than Tim. Jason wasn’t sure which one was Tim’s real voice, like he never had been sure with Bruce.

“Are you Tim?” Miles asked.

Robin didn’t even flinch. He just looked at Miles. Whiteout lenses not giving away anything. “I’m Robin,” he said. He was looking Miles over, cataloguing again. 

“He’s fine, Babybird,” Jason said.

“Okay, I’m here, let him go,” Robin said.

“It’s not that easy. He needs to stay here until it’s over.”

“What exactly are you up to, Jason?” Robin asked.

“I am going to kill the Joker, Babybird and you are going to help me.”

“Never!” Robin hissed.

“I knew you would say that. There is too much Bat in you. Even your suit screams Bat,” Jason sighed.

“Batman doesn’t kill-”

“But he lets them die,” Jason cut in.

Robin took a controlled breath. “I’m sorry you died. I am, but this is not how we do things.”

“It is now. It is for me, Babybird.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Is only Dick allowed to call you that?” Jason asked.

“Jason!”

“I told him everything,” Jason said. “You can as well confirm it to your friend.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Take off the mask, Tim,” Jason said training the gun at his heart. His hand was steady.

“You won’t kill me,” Robin said. “You need me.”

“That is true, but I was trained by him too. I know where to strike, Tim. I know how to inflict pain without killing you and I don’t think you’re faster than a speeding bullet. I can leave you there for him to find. Bleeding.”

Robin’s hands balled to fists on his side. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s too late, don’t you see? I already did.” He gestured to the mask again. “Take it off.”

“Fuck,” Robin hissed as he peeled it off.

“The hell, Tim?! The hell!” Miles said.

“We don’t have time for this,” Tim said. “Are you happy now? Ruining my life?”

“I don’t know. Am I ruining your life? It’s one person less you’ll have to lie to,” Jason said.

Robin glared at him and then put the mask back on. “What now?”

“Take a seat,” Jason said, “And have a glass of water.” He gestured to the small table.

“It’s spiked, isn’t it?”

“It’s that or I will knock you out the old-fashioned way,” Jason replied. “Your choice.”

Tim took the glass of water. Jason knew he would. 

~+~  
Once Tim was out cold, Jason patted him down and removed all the cool toys.

“You didn’t lie,” Miles said from his chair. He was staring at Tim. “Tim is Robin.”

“Yes,” Jason said, getting up. “Tim Drake is Robin the Boywonder.”

“And he came to my rescue.”

“He cares about you.”

“Tim cares about a lot of people,” Miles repeated.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “I know.” He looked down at Drake. A boy. A fucking, sleeping boy.

“You care about him,” Miles stated.

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know Miles, is wanting to fuck his pretty mouth the same as caring?”

“Jesus, stop that!” Miles said. “He’s just a kid!”

“He’s a Robin. Different rules apply to him,” Jason replied.

“In your own twisted way you want to save him. From the Joker.”

Maybe it was even true. “Someone has to. God knows it won’t be Robin himself.”

Because Robin had to be strong, that was what Batman needed, so that was what Robin was. No fucking self-preservation.

 

**~eight~**

If you looked hard enough and long enough, and above all with the right state of mind (or wrong), then there were patterns to Joker’s madness.  
Jason had studied them and he knew them like the intimate touch of a lover. You had to bait him, but not too obviously. He had started doing that when he started to buddy up to Miles.  
The only thing in his way was Nightwing. If Robin failed to return or pick up the comm he would search for Robin and ruin all of Jason’s carefully laid plans.  
Jason didn’t necessary leave Robin bound and gagged in his hideout, but he couldn’t have Dick snooping around.

“Okay, Miles,” he said as he came out of the bathroom. His hair was back to his usual dark.

“You’re not a natural blond?” Miles asked.

Jason smiled. “You are a funny guy, Miles.”

“Well,” Miles bit his lip. “It’s stupid you know, but I liked you before you went all crazy on my ass.”

“The thing is, Miles,” Jason replied. “I like you too.”

Miles nodded. “It’s my turn to drink whatever you gave Tim, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Jason answered and handed him a bottle of water.

“For the record? This sucks,” Miles said and drank.

Well, Jason thought, sometimes life did.

~+~  
“Hey there, Bigbird,” Jason said and his voice was too soft, to intimate even to his own ears, but he couldn’t help it. This was Dick and Jason had always had a soft fucking spot for Dick.  
Dick spun around and locked eyes with him. His fingers tightened on the paper cup of coffee. 

“Jay-”

And it was the sweetest fucking sound, Jason hated himself a little for what he was about to do. He wanted to grab Dick by his collar and drag him into a heated kiss right here in this small, but crowded, coffee-shop. But that would attract attention and lead to people remembering them.  
Him.  
“Wanna take a walk? It’s just the day for it,” Jason asked.

Dick nodded and got a chai-latte for him like Jason knew he would. It was his fucking favorite.

As soon as they were outside and a few steps away, Jason dragged him into a back alley and pressed him against the wall. In that sexy way. He kissed Dick hard and Dick kissed back like Jason knew he would.

“Jaybird,” he said and looked at him. Studied his face, his eyes, his lips. “Fuck, it’s so good to see you. I wasn’t sure you would come back. I wasn’t-”

Jason kissed him again, because he didn’t want to hear it. Dick would hate him after this. Jason knew it. But he needed to do, what he needed to do so he could move on already. So he wouldn’t become Bruce, trapped and shackled to his past. Jason wanted to tell him he loved him, but wasn’t sure if it would make things better or worse for Dick in the long run.

“Jay-” and Dick stopped and looked at him. His fingers were slipping on Jason’s jacket.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

“What did you do?” Dick’s eyes were wide and disbelieving. Betrayed.

“I just need you to stay out of my hair for tonight, Bigbird,” Jason said and pressed a soft kiss to Dick’s temple.

“You drugged me, you-” he looked at Jason’s lips. “A chapstick? You drugged me while you were kissing me? Fuck you Jason-” and he was trying to get away, but Jason didn’t let him and he was getting weaker by the second.

“I am sorry,” Jason said again.

Dick wanted to say something, but then he just went slack in Jason’s arms. Jason took a breath. He needed to get Dick somewhere safe and far away. One fucking night was really all that he needed to deal with the clown. 

~+~  
Jason knew it would be smarter to just shoot the clown and be done with it. Six bullets in the head and he would be dead. The nightmare over. A nice new day to start a life.  
But this shit was personal for Jason. Had always been. Should have been for Bruce too. He wasn’t going to think about Bruce now. It would only distract him.

Jason needed to keep his head cool. He needed to get the clown to where he wanted him. He needed to separate him from his henchmen and he needed a few hours alone with the Joker. So Jason could murder him in peace.

Jason hadn’t actually murdered anyone since Boris – and that had been swift and training of some kind. He hadn’t thought about it deeply. Hadn’t planned beyond, ‘when an opportunity presents itself’.  
He felt the anticipation. A gentle thrill – not unlike when he had been young and wearing the Robin suit for the first night, unlike the first time he dared to grab Dick by the neck and pull him in and kiss his soft lips, swallow his gasp. That feeling of triumph as Dick kissed him back.  
He shouldn’t be thinking about this either.

The new Robin, the current Robin, the third Robin. Robin. Was stirring. He would be awake soon.  
Jason crouched beside him and took out his kris. The blade was clean and sharp.

“It won’t hurt much, in fact you won’t notice until your blood starts to flow,” he said.

“Fuck you, Jason,” Tim hissed. And it was a growl, a…it reminded him of Bruce. Of Batman.

“I’m being nice about this, Babybird,” Jason replied. 

“Don’t even try to sell me this bullshit. You want to see me bleed,” Tim said, taking a calming breath. He had, no doubt, checked his restrains and made himself familiar with the terrain. 

“I do want to see you bleed and other things,” Jason said, grabbing the boy’s chin and making Robin look at him. The lenses were down for now, it wouldn’t stay that way. Drake’s eyes were blue. A clear, dark blue. They looked fierce too. Tim Drake wanted to fuck Jason’s shit up and it made Jason smile. “Do you think about that night sometimes? When I touched you? With Dick just on the other side of the bed? I know you have a hard-on for him. Can’t blame you, really,” Jason said.  
Robin shook his head, tried to get out of Jason’s grip. “Is that a no? It’s hard to believe. I think about it,” Jason continued and leaned in. Robin’s breath hitched, Jason kissed him and got bitten for his trouble. “Not the time for it, you’re right.” He leaned back and looked the boy over. He needed to do some damage. It had to look good. A lot of blood, but nothing lethal, nothing lasting. He started cutting. Robin gritted his teeth and didn’t make a sound.

~+~  
Jason watched as the Joker toyed with Robin. He was still drugged and he was bleeding and he had been caught unaware. More or less.  
Tim could’ve probably take him in a fair fight, but Joker never fought fair to begin with and so Jason wasn’t going to either.  
Jason aimed and shot – a nice, clean shot through the Joker’s shoulder – as the Joker raised the crowbar.  
Robin stared in suspended shock, horror, disbelief? Jason couldn’t say. The Joker howled and turned around. The crowbar fell to the floor. Jason waved and jumped smoothly down. 

“I know you…you smell like dead bird,” the Joker said.

Jason shrugged and fired again, this time aiming at the Joker’s knee. He fell with a dull noise.

“Jason,” Tim said. He was holding his ribs. Jason was sure at least one was cracked or even broken.

Jason put the gun away and picked up the crowbar. “You might want to look away now, Babybird,” he said as gently as he could, but he didn’t watch Robin to see if he would. He was focused on the feel of the crowbar in his hands. He had taken the gauntlets off to have a better grip and to feel more, deeper.

“Are you going to kill me?” The Joker asked and he sounded more curious than anything else.

“Yes,” Jason answered as he swung the crowbar.

“What would daddy say?”

“I’m an orphan,” Jason said just as it connected.

~+~  
There was blood on his hands and on his clothes. And he was holding the crowbar in one hand and the gun in the other. He was firing. And firing and firing and he couldn’t stop even when he ran out of bullets. Just to be sure.

“Jason,” Tim said.

“Just to make sure,” Jason replied and took a deep breath. “You need a doctor.”

“Alfred can patch me up. It’s not that bad,” Robin said.

Jason laughed. “Yes it is, Robin,” he replied, turning from the corpse and looking at Tim. He wasn’t bleeding anymore. Not from the shallow wounds at least. “I’ll take you home now,” he said and then leaning in and kissing his bloody and bruised cheek, “You did good Robin, I owe you one.”

Robin flinched.  
Jason couldn’t blame him.

 **~nine~**  
Robin was silent in the stolen car. Jason could hear him breathe. His breathing was controlled, he didn’t want to show how hurt he really was, but Jason knew anyway. He had brought Tim to Leslie so she could patch him up. He hadn’t said a single fucking word to her and he had worn the mask, helmet, thing over his face. She had been tense in his presence. Jason couldn’t blame her.  
He was a cold-blooded killer.

Robin was in pain, because he had refused the meds. Jason couldn’t blame him for that either. “You will release Miles,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, as soon as I got you to the manor,” Jason replied. He knew Alfred would be there. Alfred always was.

“He will know it was one of us,” Robin said.

“Will you tell him now, that I’m back?” Jason asked.

“Is there a choice? You killed the Joker with a crowbar. There aren’t many people who would want to do that-”

“Three I can name. Myself not included,” Jason interrupted.

Robin looked at him. “But they wouldn’t,” he said.

“No, they wouldn’t. But you can’t tell me you don’t feel relieved that he’s gone. That he won’t ever do anything to anyone you love or care about.”

Robin looked at the dark street in front of them. The darkness seemed endless on this road to the manor.  
“That is not why you did it-” he stopped. “Not only anyway.”

Jason shrugged. “It was a little bit of both. Work and pleasure.”

“Jason-”

“We’re here. You need help to get to the porch?” Jason interrupted.

Robin didn’t bite his lip. It would be a tell. Robin knew better than that. “I can manage.” He said eventually.

Jason parked the car as close to the front door as he could, watched as Robin got out, and rang the doorbell. Watched as Alfred opened the door and looked at him, looked at the car and Jason, behind the mask, behind the wheel. His heart ached and he took a deep breath.  
Alfred’s warmth wasn’t his anymore. He started the car while Alfred was helping Robin into the house.  
He didn’t look back.

~+~  
Miles was up and staring as Jason entered the hide-out.

“You did it,” he said.

Jason looked down at himself.  
Blood.  
Blood everywhere.  
He needed to get rid of these clothes. “He’s dead.”

“What about Tim?” Miles asked.

“He’s back where he belongs,” Jason replied and it hurt to say it. But it was the truth. Drake was the Robin Batman needed. Jason couldn’t be that anymore. He was someone else now.  
Something else.

“So, you’re letting me go now?”

“Yes,” Jason said.

“And what if I go to the police?”

“Of course you will go to the police. And you will tell them you got kidnapped and then you will tell them Robin rescued you. And it will be the truth, Miles.”

“Or what?” Miles asked.

“You really want an answer to that? I just killed the Joker with a crowbar. Beat him to death. Shot him six times – or more for good measure. I don’t take kindly to threats.”

Miles gulped. “Okay. Got kidnapped by some crazy dude. Robin rescued me and saved the day.”

“Alright,” Jason said and uncuffed him.

Miles rubbed his wrists. “Shit…”

“Yeah, well.” Jason shrugged. He didn’t know what to say to the kid except… “This hideout will be destroyed tonight, so you better get a move on it.” 

For a moment, it looked like Miles wanted to say something, but then he just nodded and got the hell out of the place.  
Jason lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag and let it in a bit too long. He needed to feel the burn right now, because a part of him was well aware that he needed to be punished for what he did to Dick and maybe Robin.  
He smiled wryly around his cigarette: Batman would see to it, of that Jason had no fucking doubt.  
He wondered how the wonderboys would explain to him that they knew that Jason had been alive all these last months. That they knew he had been less than stable.  
It wasn’t his problem. It hadn’t been his decision either to omit that fact to Batman. It was their mess.  
A part of Jason wanted to be there when Dick tried to explain, when Tim tried. A part of him wondered if Dick would ever speak to him again, or if he would take all that hero-worship wrapped up in love and guilt and sexual tension up on his offer and take Tim to bed.  
He exhaled slowly.  
Nothing he could do about it now.  
Dick needed time to think about this shit. He needed time to try and understand, maybe try and forgive Jason, and Jason was going to give that time to Dick.  
He would hunt scum over in Chicago for a while.  
He needed a vacation anyway.


End file.
